


The Bones are Good

by Mommadon



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Slow Dancing, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27583450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mommadon/pseuds/Mommadon
Summary: Marinette and Adrien dance to Maren Morris' "The Bones" and have a sweet, wholesome, slightly awkward, friendship-building conversation.Prompt by @Day the Jill of All Trades Fairy
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 14
Kudos: 54
Collections: Miraculous Fanworks Anniversary 2020





	The Bones are Good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WritingDaydreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingDaydreams/gifts).



> We're celebrating the anniversary of the Miraculous Fanworks Discord Server with gifts for everyone! This one's for you, Day. Enjoy!
> 
> If you're interested in joining the server and hanging out with some other Miraculous fans, click this link and tell them Mommadon sent you. :D  
> [Miraculous Fanworks Discord Server Invite](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks)

Marinette was sipping her orange juice when the sound of an electric guitar started picking a tender melody over the speakers. There was a tap on her shoulder. “Marinette?” She turned to see Adrien’s smile and soft eyes piercing to her core. “Can I have this dance?”

“Uh, sure,” she managed. She handed her glass to Alya, wiped her mouth on her napkin, and then stepped toward Adrien. He held out his elbow for her and she slipped her hand though the crook of his arm. His tailored suit felt buttery underneath her clammy palms. Marinette swallowed and focused on not tripping over her heels or snagging her skirt on anything.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said softly. Marinette’s heart hammered in her chest, but she managed to keep the blush at bay—at least for now.

“Thank you,” she said slowly to avoid stammering, “You look beautiful as well.”

He gaped for a second, then a smile stole across his face. “Thanks.”

“You probably get that a lot,” she said, looking down at her freshly manicured fingers.

“Not as much as you’d think. Oh sure, I get told that I’m good looking, but it’s pretty rare that one of my friends calls me beautiful.”

“F-friends, yeah,” she smiled. Adrien slipped his hand around her waist and twirled her once, then pulled her in to start dancing. 

“You’re a good dancer too,” he complimented. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that before.”

“Me?” she squeaked, “A good dancer? Hardly! I’m madly clumsy, I always trip over my own feet, I usually can’t make it out of the house without a bruise or two.”

He smirked and spun her out away from him. She yelped, but reacted on instinct, pirouetting on one toe and popping her foot dramatically as he tucked his arm around her and lowered her into a dip. She was panting slightly when he lifted her back to her feet. “Yep, like I said, a good dancer.”

She pouted, “Only when you take me off guard. Only because you’re a good leader.”

He shook his head, “No, that’s really not true. I’ve noticed this about you, Marinette—your instincts are always spot-on. When you’re just reacting to a situation, you’re a force to be reckoned with. It’s only when you stop to think about something that you get in your own way.” Marinette’s insides squirmed with equal parts embarrassment and delight. She was thrilled with the fact that he noticed something that detailed about her, but embarrassed that that implied he’d watched her stumble and fail more times than she cared to count.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“What for?”

She shrugged. “For getting in my own way all too often.”

Adrien frowned, “Marinette, that’s not what I meant. I was trying to give you a compliment.” She couldn’t avoid the pink that dusted her cheeks this time.

The words of the song interrupted their conversation.

> _When the bones are good, the rest don't matter  
>  Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter  
>  Let it rain 'cause you and I remain the same  
>    
>  _

“I love this song,” Adrien muttered.

“Really?” Marinette responded, locking on to a new topic. Music. Music was a safe topic. Much safer than veiled compliments and dancing.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “I love the idea that a relationship based on friendship and happy moments can stand the test of time, far more so than one based on infatuation.”

She gnawed her lower lip, “Wow, that’s deep.”

He chuckled, “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me _deep_ before.”

“Well, they should!” Marinette growled despite of herself. “They should call you beautiful and deep and kind and funny and friendly and brave and honest, because that’s what you are!” His jaw dropped. She let go of his shoulder and clamped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she groaned between her fingers. “I didn’t mean—” He shook his head and she stopped talking.

His lower lip trembled once, “That was the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Please don’t take it back.” Her pink cheeks flared cherry red. He caressed her heated cheek softly before prying her fingers from her mouth and locking her hands together behind his neck. He pulled her closer, both hands on her hips. 

> _Call it dumb luck, but baby, you and I  
>  Can't even mess it up, though we both try  
>  No, it don't always go the way we planned it  
>  But the wolves came and went and we're still standing_

“Marinette,” Adrien whispered in her ear, “I’m really glad you’re my friend.”

“Me too,” she replied, her voice cracking. 

“Can I ask you a question? Mainly prompted by the song,” he asked tentatively.

“Sure,” she responded eagerly.

“Are you in love with Luka?”

Marinette blinked quickly and pulled back enough to look Adrien in the eyes. She couldn’t hide this one. “No,” she responded simply, “he’s the most supportive, patient guy I know, but I just… I don’t feel about him that way. He knows that.”

Adrien nodded with a pensive look on his face. “What about Chat Noir?”

Marinette gasped in shock, “What are you asking this for?”

“Like I said, it was prompted by the song.” 

“The _song?_ ”

“So, are you?”

“What does the _song_ have to do with anything?”

“I’m just wondering how an amazing girl like you could get this far without a boyfriend.” She felt the heat rising up her neck. “And I know you used to have a thing for Chat Noir—”

She growled, “That was a big misunderstanding!”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Well, if you’re not in love with Luka or Chat Noir, why _don’t_ you have a boyfriend?”

Her stomach was twisting in knots. She did not want to be having this conversation, not here, not now, not with Adrien, not with anyone. “Um,” she replied.

“Sorry,” he suddenly said, turning pink in the cheeks for the first time that night, “That was really forward of me to ask. Your love life is your own business.”

Marinette looked at her shoes. “The truth is, there _is_ a guy I wish would notice me, but I don’t think he ever will.”

“Really?” Adrien said, “That’s… that’s kind of sad. That can’t be true. Everyone loves Marinette!”

She smiled forlornly and focused on the music. 

> _When there ain't a crack in the foundation  
>  Baby, I know any storm we're facing  
>  Will blow right over while we stay put  
>  The house don't fall when the bones are good_

“I wish that were true,” she whispered so quietly that Adrien probably didn’t hear. “Besides,” she added a little more clearly, “He’s got a girlfriend, and I’m really busy, and let’s face it, we’re fifteen years old, we’ve got time to figure things out, right?”

He was still contemplating the part about the guy she liked. “He has a girlfriend?”

“Adrien, drop it,” she said firmly. 

He shook his head, “Is it Nino?”

She laughed bitterly, “No, and I really don’t want to talk about this anymore—”

“Marinette,” he said firmly, “I want to be your friend. Friends tell each other important things like this. Friends help each other out.”

A lump was rising in her throat and she could feel hot tears prickling behind her eyes. “I c-can’t,” she managed. 

Adrien looked confused. The song was fading. Marinette curtsied and let go of his neck and turned to return to her group of friends. But she only made it two steps when a warm hand touched her hand. “Please don’t go,” Adrien plead.

Marinette squeezed her eyes shut and she inhaled sharply. “Come on, let’s go somewhere quieter, please?” Marinette turned to look up at him. He was so beautiful; it was physically painful. She’d been putting this conversation off for so long. She didn’t know if she had the courage to face it now. Her heart was racing, beating a death march in her chest. He interlaced their fingers and led her out of the crowded dance hall and to a secluded corner of the garden. “There, is this better?”

It was quieter, that’s for sure. Fewer people to see her fail spectacularly. She supposed that was a good thing and gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Look, Marinette, I’m sorry, whatever I said that upset you, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize,” she said firmly, surprising even herself at her steady tone. “It’s all my fault. I’m the one who isn’t good at expressing her feelings.”

He sat down, not releasing her hand, and she sat beside him. Their interlaced fingers were so comfortable, so tender, so soft, that she was having a hard time remembering that to him it was a simple gesture of friendship. 

“Marinette, I’m not going to be upset with you, whatever it is.” He caught her staring at their hands and let go. She pulled her cold fingers back into her lap and trembled. He mistook her suppressed sobs for shivers and pulled off his jacket to wrap it around her shoulders. It smelled interesting—kind of musty, but with a light spritz of cologne as well. Strange. Not bad, but strange. What was she DOING? Smelling Adrien’s jacket? Ugh! She felt like an idiot.

“I’m an idiot,” she muttered, acknowledging the obvious.

“I beg to differ,” he responded genuinely.

She dropped her head into her hands and refused to give in to her tears. “I just don’t want to screw anything up,” Marinette admitted sheepishly.

“Screw something up? How would you—”

“By being awkward, by making our friendship weird!” she blurted out.

He raised an eyebrow, “I’m not following you—”

“You!” Marinette screeched unceremoniously, “You’re the guy!”

Of all the hundreds of ways Marinette had tried to tell Adrien how she felt about him, this was _not_ one of them. 

“M-me?” he gasped.

Marinette dropped her head in her hands again, “Yeah, but like I said, I know you’re with Kagami, I know you don’t feel that way about me, and I know it’s way too late anyway, and I’m sorry and, oh gosh,” she wailed, “I’ve done it. I’ve done the one thing I was trying so hard to avoid. I’ve made it weird. Can you just forget anything I’ve said? Can you just forget it all?”

He didn’t say anything for a while. Then, “No.”

“No?” she croaked.

“No, I can’t forget what you said.”

Marinette’s stomach plummeted. “Well, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” he said softly, looking at the flowers across the garden path. 

“You’re not?”

He shook his head and turned to her, “I know something more about a dear friend of mine, something that can only bring us closer.”

She felt a spring of hope gush upward. “Does that mean?”

He sighed, “It means I value your friendship more than anything, Marinette.” She nodded. He didn’t like her. Not like she liked him. But she still had his friendship. And that really was the most important thing. “It means that whatever happens in the future, I want our relationship to be built on strong bones.”

She swallowed hard. Her stomach ached, but her chest felt lighter than it had in longer than she could remember. She felt free of a burden that had been eating her up inside. “Well, I’m glad that it’s not too weird.”

He smiled and touched her cheek softly, “Nope, not weird at all.”

* * *

Twelve Years Later

* * *

Marinette was pinning a sleeve to her dress form when the song on the radio changed. Adrien smiled at his wife, at the way she swayed subconsciously and hummed along. “Hey,” he breathed into her ear, wrapping his arms around her waist, “Remember this song?”

He spun her once and pulled her to him. She yelped with surprise and delight. “How could I forget? It’s the song we danced to the night I finally admitted my feelings.”

Adrien started dancing with his wife and singing a few of the words. Marinette closed her eyes. “I’m so glad you finally opened up to me that night.”

She giggled and buried her face in his chest. He kissed the crown of her head tenderly. “I still can’t believe how awkward that all was.”

“It was _not,_ ” he protested, “it was cute!”

“You only say that now because of how things turned out in the end.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“No. I thought it was cute even on the day of. In fact, it was the first time I really noticed how cute you were when you were being sincere. I mean, I’d noticed that you were attractive before then, but I hadn’t ever noticed how _cute_ you could be.”

She rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue playfully. “But it was _not_ cute. You were dating Kagami at the time, and I should not have been pining after you like I was.”

He kissed her temple, “I’m so glad you were, though. Because if you hadn’t said something, you wouldn’t have jumped on my radar. And Kagami and I broke it off amicably not long after that, if I remember correctly.”

“Are you quizzing me on how well I remember _your_ love life?” she teased.

He shrugged and danced across her fashion studio. “Well, we remember the same things but from different angles.”

“That’s true,” she smiled into his chest.

> _When the bones are good, the rest don't matter  
>  Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter  
>  Let it rain 'cause you and I remain the same_

“Ok,” he admitted finally, “It was a _little_ awkward.”

“Ha, told you so!” she trilled triumphantly.

“But it was important. It was our foundation. Our friendship—being honest with each other, learning to fight by each other’s side, learning to trust each other with our feelings—that was the bones we needed so we could have what we are now.”

She smiled. “That’s true. If I hadn’t opened up to you that night, we wouldn’t have had the strengthened bond we needed to get through everything that we got through—”

“Like getting over my first breakup—”

“Or when Alya moved away—”

“Or defeating Hawkmoth—”

“Or when we were finally able to reveal our identities to each other—”

“Which I _still_ can’t believe was so amazing—”

Marinette finally smiled and nodded, “You’re right.”

He winked, “I usually am.”

She playfully slapped his arm. “If you hadn’t already been my best friend on both sides of the mask, it would have been really hard to transition from a couple of teenagers pining after each other to a romantic couple. So, I guess I’m glad I got the awkward out of the way first so that we could be honest with each other.”

“My point exactly,” he said, kissing her softly on the nose, then singing along with the rest of the song:

> Baby, I know any storm we're facing  
>  Will blow right over while we stay put  
>  The house don't fall when the bones are good

“Yep,” she kissed him back, “We’ve got good bones.”

“We sure do,” he winked before planting a deeper, longer, more meaningful kiss on her mouth. “And our house won’t fall.”

“Nope, never.”

**Author's Note:**

> The song is credited to Maren Morris. I do not own any rights to the song or lyrics.  
> [The Bones](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gvPMVKUI9go)


End file.
